I love spring. I love it for the simple fact that it's the beginning of the
season, that it raises the curtain on 162 games worth of drama and doldrums,
ebbs and flows. And I love it all the more this year, because when I told my
editors I wanted to write a season-long, fan's notes column, they said, "Go
But much as I love spring, I've got a confession to make: I don't trust it.
The same thing happens every year: A handful of blooming bulbs poke through
the dirt, a bunch ...